


"She's dead."

by snowflakeimagines



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Car Accidents, F/M, Female Reader, Hospitals, Mild Gore, Sans and Reader are married, Sans has a motorcycle, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 17:20:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18154784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowflakeimagines/pseuds/snowflakeimagines
Summary: This was one of the rare moments where Sans actually ran instead of simply taking a shortcut. He kept pace with the other doctors and nurses, holding your hand all the while. “yer gonna be fine, sweetheart,” he whispered to you, mostly to console himself.“If something happens to me,” you murmured back to him, “take care of my family for me. Tell them I love them. I love you, Sans… and I’m sorry.”“don’t— don’t say things like that.” Tears were forming in his eye-sockets and blurring his vision. “y-you’ll get through this. we’re in this together, r-right? y-you’ll be fine.”You didn’t reply. Your eyes had fluttered shut, and your grip on his hand was loosening. When had your body gone so cold? Panic bubbled up inside him.“s-sweetheart? ya there?”





	"She's dead."

**Author's Note:**

> An angst-filled prompt fic requested by an anonymous follower. Find me and more heartbreaking works on my Tumblr at https://snowflakeimagines.tumblr.com!

You whooped in delight as the two of you sped down the highway. Sans smiled at your antics. “havin’ fun, sweetheart?”

“Hell yeah!” You buried your face into the fluff of his hoodie, having to hunch down in order to do so. The wind whistled past his skull as he accelerated on his motorcycle. The sky above him was a beautiful midnight blue. The stars twinkled gleefully and the moon shone a luminous white.

“ya sure you ain’t cold?” Sans asked. “ya can always borrow my jacket if ya want. cold never bothered me anyway.”

You snorted and swatted his shoulder. “Was that a Frozen reference? You’re the worst.”

Sans shook the handles of the bike, causing it to wobble a little bit on the road. He laughed heartily. “careful, hun. ya don’t want us crashin’ now, do ya?”

“Touché, Sans. Touché.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you. Sans felt your grip around him tighten, your body press a little closer to him. He relished in your warmth and the soothing rhythm of your heartbeat. Just ten more minutes until he can be reunited with his bed once more. The thought of soft and fluffy blankets wrapped around him was enough to make him go even faster.

“…Hey, Sans?”

“yeah?”

“We’ve been married for a couple years already, right?”

Sans tightened his grip on the handlebar. “i… don’t know where you’re going with this…?”

“I want to start a family with you,” you said in a hushed tone to the side of his skull. “Have kids. Raise them with you. If that’s what you want too.”

He thought about it for a moment before speaking. “i don’t know. i mean— uh— it’s not like i don’t wanna have kids,” he hurried to explain himself. “i’m sure you’d be an amazin’ mom. it’s just… i don’t think i’m cut out for the parenting biz. i took care a’ paps when we were little, and look how he turned out. i don’t wanna fuck this up for ya, too.”

You hummed. “I’m sure you’ll be a great dad, Sans. We’ll figure it out together. We always have, haven’t we?”

Sans briefly closed his eye-sockets and leaned into you. “yeah. and we always will.” He opened his eyes and refocused on the road. “ya do know that havin’ children with a monster is different from yer human ways, right?”

He saw you wiggle your eyebrows from the rear-view mirror. “Are we gonna do the horizontal mamba? The in-and-out? The bedroom rodeo?”

Sans chuckled. “i’d call it a trip to the bonezone.” He winked flirtatiously at you through the mirror. “but no. we don’t need to bone in order to get ya pregnant.”

Your expression was genuinely curious now. “Huh. How does it work then?”

“first off, you gotta be at the right stage in the relationship, so everyone’s ready. this can vary with different people. second, everyone needs to want a kid. it’s all about intentions. after all that basic stuff, everyone involved — this can involve more than two people, by the way — takes their souls out and merges em together for… like, half an hour or somethin’? in that period of time, you kinda relive their most important memories in their perspective. that’s what i’ve been told, anyway. after that, the so—”

All of a sudden, a figure ran across the road. It froze in the dead center of his path. Sans reacted quickly, slamming on both brakes — but it was too late. The front tire clipped on a rut in the concrete, and you both went flying.

It was as if the world moved in slow motion. Sans could swear that the shadowy figure had turned its head and given him an eerie, humorless smile. He could feel you hold him even tighter against you, wrapping yourself around him, almost as if you were… shielding him. Fuck, nononononoy **ou’regonnagetyourselfkil—**

Time returned to a regular pace. It had all happened so fast. The two of you slammed into the ground. His bones rattled from the impact and he was seeing stars. You, however, had it far worse. Sans heard  a sickening crunch from your body that made his soul drop into his nonexistent stomach. You continued to keep him cocooned in your arms, even as your body rolled across the rough ground. As soon as you slowed to a stop, your arms lost their strength and flopped to your sides. You were both panting heavily.

Sans clambered off of you and inspected your body. You were covered in cuts and your leg was bent at an odd angle. A closer look revealed that a bit of your tibia was protruding from your skin. Oh stars. Sans felt nauseous at the sight. His eyelights shrunk to tiny, tiny pinpricks.

“Are— are you okay?” you choked out, grabbing his hands. “Are you hurt?”

“you’re askin’  _me_  if i’m okay?!” he sputtered. “your bone is stickin’ outta yer flesh! **i’m pretty fuckin’ sure that’s not supposed to happen with humans!”**

You winced. “Not so loud, Sans.”

He ignored you. “why the fuck would ya do that?!” he yelled, his voice breaking mid-speech. “you coulda gotten yerself killed!”

“You’ve only got 1 HP, Sans…” You sounded oddly distant and quiet. “I can’t… just let you… die….” Shit! Of course! You were losing too much blood. Being careful of your wounds, Sans used blue magic to lift you up and keep you light enough so he could carry you in his arms. He glanced one last time at the road. The figure was gone. Disappeared without a trace. Looking away and gathering his magic, he teleported to the nearest hospital.

Sans found himself surrounded by white walls and bright lights. A few patients around him jumped at his sudden appearance, but he couldn’t care less about them. He turned to the nearest doctor, a tall man with round glasses and a kind face. “please,” he pleaded to him, “help her.”

In mere moments, you were lying down on a stretcher, being taken to the emergency room. This was one of the rare moments where Sans actually ran instead of simply taking a shortcut. He kept pace with the other doctors and nurses, holding your hand all the while. “yer gonna be fine, sweetheart,” he whispered to you, mostly to console himself.

“If something happens to me,” you murmured back to him, “take care of my family for me. Tell them I love them. I love you, Sans… and I’m sorry.”

“don’t— don’t say things like that.” Tears were forming in his eye-sockets and blurring his vision. “y-you’ll get through this. we’re in this together, r-right? y-you’ll be fine.”

You didn’t reply. Your eyes had fluttered shut, and your grip on his hand was loosening. When had your body gone so cold? Panic bubbled up inside him.

“s-sweetheart? ya there?”

Finally, you reached the emergency room. Sans followed the others as they carefully carried you onto the hospital bed. They bent over you, shouting instructions and observations to each other. He caught the words “internal bleeding”, “broken leg”, and “too much blood” being thrown around. If he had a heart, it would’ve stopped beating right then and there. He was slowly being pushed out of the room by the increasing number of doctors in the room. He struggled to stay by your side, but to no avail. He cried your name, reaching in your direction. A doctor stepped in front of him, and you vanished from his sight. He grabbed onto the coat closest to him. The doctor turned around. It was the same one that he had spoken to as soon as he had even stepped foot into this hospital. “save her,” he rasped. Normally, he’d feel pathetic, having to beg a human to do something for him; but this was different. This was for you.

The doctor nodded, his face set and determined. “We’ll do our best, sir.”

Seconds later, Sans was standing outside the emergency room. The door closed. As if on autopilot, he stiffly made his way to the chairs lined up against the wall and sunk into a seat. He breathed a shaky exhale. He dragged his phalanges down his face, his other hand bunching up his hoodie.

“Excuse me, sir?” a nurse called softly to him. “We need you to sign at the front desk.”

Sans growled at the nurse, baring his teeth at her. A few seconds later, he sighed and got up to follow her. He wanted to be as close to your soul as possible, but he knew things would be easier if he cooperated and did what he was told. Once he arrived at the receptionist, he took the form and filled it out for you. With each word he scribbled down, the more he longed to be by your side. Sans didn’t know if his writing was even legible. He didn’t care. He just wanted to see you again.

At last, the form was done. He slid it over to the receptionist before teleporting back to the emergency room. He drummed his fingers anxiously on the seat next to him, trying to anchor himself with the rhythmic sounds. After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened. A doctor walked out and took off his surgical mask. Sans scrambled to his feet. “what happened? how is she? can i see her?”

“I’m sorry,” the doctor said, his eyes sincere and apologetic. “She… she’s dead.”

Sans felt his soul crack at the news. His eyesockets were devoid of all light. “no…” he whispered. “nononon **ononononono!** ” His magic flared to life, and he teleported into the room. There you were, lying on the hospital bed, hooked up to various machines and bags. The heart monitor displayed one flat line on its screen. Despite everything, you looked so peaceful. He focused in on your soul. It was cracking, just barely being held together. There was still hope. He seized your hand and began healing you.

His consciousness entered a new realm. Sans was on a ledge, holding your hand, keeping you from plummeting into the darkness below. He pulled and pulled and pulled, using all the magic he could offer in an attempt to save you. Still, you were slipping from his grasp. Sans heaved a sob. Why was he so weak? 

Deep down, he knew that even if he’d given his entire soul to keep you alive, it wouldn’t be enough. Monster souls just weren’t strong enough for human souls.

His eye-sockets were squeezed shut, his left eyelight producing clouds of red smoke that surrounded his skull. Both your bodies were engulfed in a bonfire of green magic. He had to save you, he had to bring you back, come on,  _come on,_ _ **come on—**_

You fell.

Sans watched helplessly as the darkness swallowed your limp form. Your once beautiful and radiant soul shattered into a million pieces before fading from existence. He was ripped out of the healing realm suddenly and violently. The doctors were shuffling out of the room one by one, leaving Sans alone with your dead body. He paid them no mind.

He trembled as he gently caressed your face, brushing your blood-soaked hair out of your eyes. Despite the blood and bruises covering your body, your face was untouched. It was almost cruel, how humans didn’t turn to dust when they died. It looked like you were merely sleeping. That you’d wake up soon and return to your usual, lively self. You’d hug him, kiss him, tell him how much you love him. Tears were flowing in a steady stream from his eye-sockets as he pulled up a chair and sat down beside you.

A few minutes of silence passed. The only sounds in the room were the flat, piercing noise of the heart monitor and Sans’ quiet sobbing.

The pain began.

Boy, did it hurt.

The skeleton always knew that bonding had its downfalls. If anything happened to one of the souls in the bond, it would leave irreparable damage on the other soul… and if that soul was weak enough, it could break too.

The pain was too much. His soul was cracking, being torn apart from the inside out. He clawed at his sides, tearing up his hoodie with his sharp phalanges. He opened his mouth and screamed.

Sans screamed his pain for the world to hear. His wife, his soulmate, his everything… was gone.

He’ll never get to wake up beside you again.

He’ll never get to make you laugh again.

He’ll never get to feel the happy hum of your soul again.

**You were never coming back.**

He screamed and screamed until he couldn’t scream anymore. When that happened, he buried his face into the crook of your neck and cried. You were so cold. So lifeless. Your skin was slowly turning gray and waxy, nothing like the complexion he was familiar with.

“i’m sorry,” he whimpered. It felt like his throat was covered in thorns. It was as if he had to reach down and drag those words out of his mouth himself. He continued speaking to your corpse. “i’m sorry. this is all my fault. i shoulda paid more attention. i wasn’t strong enough. you gave your life to save mine. i don’t know what made you think i’m worth more than you. i’m not worth anything.”

He slowly pulled away so he could see your face. He smiled ruefully as he stroked your hair. “ya know, on the day we got married, i knew exactly how i wanted to live my life. we would spend the rest of our days together. we’d be lyin’ on the couch, cuddlin’, tellin’ jokes… all that fluffy domestic shit. we’d have beautiful children. they’d be exactly like you. smart, hardworking, tough, adorable… perfect. nothin’ like the fucking failure i am.

“we’d grow old together. watch our little rascals grow up to be amazing, wonderful people. and when you do pass away, it’d be peaceful. bittersweet. not like death at all. more like… ascendin’. lettin’ go and movin’ on. i know how fuckin’ cheesy that sounds, but that’s what i think. sure, i’d still be here, but… i’ll be okay, knowin’ ya lived yer life to the fullest and happiest.”

Sans pressed a loving skelekiss against your cheek. “i’m sorry i took that away from you. you don’t deserve this. life had so much in store for ya. you should be here to find out. i promised to protect ya, to make ya happy.” He barked a bitter laugh. “i really fucked that up, huh? just like how i fucked up paps’ childhood. you deserved so much better than me. i should be the one in yer position. and i will be, soon. i just need to tie up a few loose ends, and then we’ll see each other again, okay? wait for me.”

He kissed your palm gently before teleporting back home. Your house felt so empty. He’s been alone in here many times in his life, but he’s never felt this forlornness that was gnawing at his soul just from being in your house. He dragged himself up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. He cleaned all your possessions, making sure they looked as good as new. There wasn’t much to tidy in the house. You always kept it in good condition. It was Sans that constantly left his messes behind for you to clean up. Self-loathing, regretful tears formed in his eye-sockets. He hurriedly wiped them away.

Sans picked up the framed photograph on the bedside table. It was of you and him on your wedding day. You looked like an angel, with that lovely smile on your face and wearing that flowing white dress. Sans’ grin in the picture was wide and genuine; a complete contrast to how he felt now. “you shouldn’t have said yes to me,” he muttered to himself.

He took the picture downstairs and sat down at the dining table with some paper and a pen. He began writing letters to your family, to Frisk, and to his brother. Papyrus’ letter was the longest and hardest to write. Sans apologized for never giving him the childhood he deserved. He requested for you to be buried in the field of your favorite flowers at the base of Mount Ebott. He wanted his dust to be scattered atop your grave. Most importantly, he made sure to tell Papyrus that he loved him and to stay strong. 

When he finished, he folded the letters and slid them into envelopes, being sure to write their names on the back of each one. He left the envelopes in a neat stack on the table.

He staggered across the living room and collapsed on the couch. He rolled over onto his back and held the photograph to his sternum.

“i’m sorry, sweetheart,” Sans breathed as he finally let his soul turn to dust. He closed his eye-sockets and smiled one last time.

“i love you.”


End file.
